


Summer's Breath

by Spiesbian



Series: Never Did Run Smooth [2]
Category: Spies Are Forever - Talkfine/Tin Can Brothers
Genre: Internalized Homophobia, Jealous behavior, M/M, Period Typical Homophobia, Spy Stuff, oh yea you know it baby
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-24
Updated: 2019-06-24
Packaged: 2020-05-19 00:28:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19345831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spiesbian/pseuds/Spiesbian
Summary: Honestly, Curt should have noticed it before. All the weird ways Owen had changed, the shit he pulled on missions. This was just kind of a slap in the at this point.Follow up to my fic Green-Eyed





	Summer's Breath

**Author's Note:**

> Someone requested a fic where Curt noticed all the weird behavior from Owen and then realized what it all meant so of course I had to write that shit. Sorry it took so long.

“Curt.”

“Shut up for a minute, okay?”

“ _Curt._ ”

“I’m trying to do this and you’re not helping!”

Owen sighed, rubbing his face. “You’ve been staring at that debriefing document for ten minutes.”

“I’m going as fast as I can!” Curt squinted at the page. God, it was blurry.

“Why don’t you use your goddamn reading glasses?” Owen asked.

He froze, halfway through a sentence. “How do you know about my glasses?”

“You mentioned them on that mission where you had to wear those camera glasses and kept bitching about them. You know, the one with the Chinese supplier?”

Ah, yes. Where Curt had met Jonathan and gotten the closest he’d been to a romantic moment in a while before Owen started acting weird. Curt almost got mad about that all over again, but he kept his cool. It probably wouldn’t have gone anywhere even without Owen fucking it up. Hell, _couldn’t_ have gone anywhere. What would he have done, taken Jonathan back to the safehouse where they had a kidnapped Russian diplomat? It was best to just stop dwelling on it.

“Pretty sure I was very clear about my feelings towards glasses during that whole endeavor.”

“Jesus Christ.” Owen snatched Curt’s bag from the table and started digging around inside of it. Curt made a noise of indignation, attempting to grab it back but to no avail. “You can be so stubborn sometimes.”

Owen finally found what he was looking for, pulling out the case for Curt’s glasses with a triumphant flourish. “Well at least you’re smart enough to keep them with you.” He stood up and crossed over to Curt. 

“I swear to God-”

“Oh, shut up.” Owen used one hand to hold Curt’s face still and the other to slide on the glasses. “There, okay?”

“I hate you. I actually hate you.” Curt grimaced.

“Can’t you just accept that you look nice in glasses?”

His heart stuttered in his chest. Calm the fuck down, Mega, it didn’t even mean anything. He didn’t even like Owen like that. “I, uh, what?” Eloquent.

Owen suddenly looked a lot more awkward. He shrugged, adjusted his collar, pulled on the cuff of his sleeve. Curt tried to tell his brain to stop being so hyperactive and analyzing everything. “They look great on you. You're very handsome.” Owen made an odd noise. “That came out wrong.”

“How about I just read the briefing?”

“That seems like a great idea.”

Curt held up the file to hide his blush from Owen.

* * *

Owen had been very touchy feely all night. Curt didn’t know why, but he was kind of loving it. Or at least he had enough liquor sloshing around in his bloodstream to love it. It was all going pretty great tonight. They weren’t even on a _job_. No obligation to their countries, just hanging out with his closest friend.

Curt hummed contentedly as Owen rested his chin on top of his head. Arms draped themselves over Curt’s chest. Wow, Owen was kind of like a heat lamp. It was kind of amazing.

“What are you giggling about down there?” Owen asked.

“Huh?”

“You’re laughing.” 

“Oh, I’ll stop.” Curt tried to hold his breath, but eventually it all bubbled up and the laughter burst out. “Sorry, I don’t know why I’m doing this.”

 

“You’re an idiot.” He couldn’t see Owen’s face from this angle, but the fact that he could hear the smile in his voice made warmth bloom in his chest. He wished it would happen more often.

Curt reached up and nudged Owen’s face. “Can you get me another drink?”

“Don’t you think you’ve have enough, love?”

“ _One_ more?”

“ _No_. Your liver is going to kill you before any bullets do at this rate.” Owen’s arms shifted so they were crossed on Curt’s chest, almost in a protective way. Or maybe it just seemed like that because Curt felt safer.

Whoa, the alcohol was _really_ kicking in now.

Curt looked down the bar and briefly caught eyes with another man. Curt quickly looked away, hoping that his face wasn’t too red. “Psst, Owen.”

“If you’re trying to whisper you’re not doing it very well.”

“Do you see that guy down there?” If Curt didn’t know any better he would have sworn that Owen’s grip around him tightened.

“Mhm.”

“Do you think he’s looking at me?”

“He’s been looking at you all night, darling.” Owen’s tone of voice was rather tense, but Curt didn't think too much of it.

“Wait, you knew and you didn't tell me?” He punched one of Owen's arms. “C’mon, help a guy out.”

Stubble brushed against the shell of his ear as Owen leaned down. “Curt, I think you're talking about something you don't want to share with others,” he murmured.

“I am?”

Owen nodded. He thought about it, squinting into his empty glass on the bar until… Oh. That lingering warmth under his ribs withered away, and he felt just a little bit more sober. He couldn't talk about _that_ in public, not so openly. Wait, Owen knew what he was implying, he knew. Fuck, no, he didn't want to lose Owen, not because he was a drunk fuck up.

“Hey, it's okay.” Owen started pulling him into one of the darker corners of the bar. “Take a breath.” 

“I’m sorry,” Curt gasped. “I don’t- I’m…”

“You know what, let’s just go back to the room, alright? You’ll forget all about this by the morning.”

That’s right. With the amount of alcohol in his blood, everything would just be a blur, and he wouldn’t have to live with this feeling of self disgust. Right now he just leaned into Owen’s side and ignored the look he sent that other man down the bar.

* * *

_“Are you_ sure _you’re okay?”_

“I am fine, Owen,” Curt mumbled to the comm link, adjusting his cuffs. “I’m about to head in now.”

He tightened his tie and stepped onto the ballroom floor. He could see Elise Callahan across the room, frowning at a shorter man with large glasses in front of her. First interface, this interaction would be critical with how this mission would progress in the future. She was married to an enemy spy who had managed to get his hands on some plans that the governments didn’t particularly want getting out. And because Owen had been the interfacer with the last mission, Curt was now saddled with Elise.

God dammit.

Curt slid in between Elise and the man. “Excuse me, Elise, I saw you from across the room and I just _had_ to come over and say hi!”

She blinked, staring blankly. “I’m sorry?”

“Ray Archer?”

More staring.

“From the Reid Charity Ball?”

Tentative recognition surfaced in her eyes. “Oh, uh, yes.”

Curt held out a hand. “Would you mind if I had this dance?” Owen made a weird scoffing sound over the comm. 

Elise looked from Curt to man, then back to Curt. “Of course. It’d be rude not to.” 

She took his hand, following him into the crowd. He took a breath and wrapped at arm around he face. He couldn’t be awkward about this, it had to be natural. Curt was fucking straight right now, dammit. 

“It’s been a while,” Elise said as they stepped into a dance with the others.

_”It’s been never.”_ Owen snorted.

Curt ignored the comment. “It certainly has. How are things with…” He pretended to trail off. 

“Oh, Max has been fine!” Elise quickly brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. “He’s been awfully busy lately with work.” 

_”It would be better for us if he wasn’t.”_

He had to bite bite back a response to Owen’s quip. Curt smiled at Elise. “I’m sure that’s very tough.”

“It is.” She rubbed her thumb into his shoulder. Curt swallowed hard. “But there’s not much I can do.”

“Are you doing anything after the party?” Curt asked quickly. “I’ve got a room across town and I’d love to catch up.”

Elise’s dress almost caught between his feet. “I might just take you up on that.”

_”Curt.”_

He set his jaw. He couldn’t respond right here, Owen _knew_ that.

_”Curt there’s someone suspicious at your three o’clock.”_

Curt looked to the right. All he saw were dancing couples. Jesus, it was the least Owen could do to be a little more specific. He turned back to Elise. “Now I hope you’re not getting the wrong idea from all of this.”

“Oh, no, I think we’re on exactly the same page.”

Curt was going to have a fucking panic attack.

Someone grabbed his wrist and pulled him away from Elise. Curt stumbled over his own feet. He was falling, falling…

Owen caught him. They had landed in a dip, Owen’s arms around his waist and one of Curt’s legs instinctively hitched up. Curt felt all of the blood rush to his face. People were staring, he could _feel_ them staring. After a second that felt like a thousand years, Owen swung him back up and laced their fingers together.

“Act natural, darling.” He whispered.

Curt nodded wordlessly, allowing Owen to just take the lead. This was weird, but probably not weirder than two men standing awkwardly on the dance floor. 

“Are you okay?” Owen asked softly. 

“What makes you think I wasn’t okay?”

“I’ve been around you long enough to know when you’re about to freeze up.”

Something about the way he said that made Curt’s ears ring. He was never great at dancing but something about Owen made it easy. For one instant, he forgot (or pretended) they weren’t on a mission. 

And then they were out of the throng of people. Curt was breathing heavily. It hurt, each gasp of air, but it wasn’t just a leftover from his moment of panic earlier. It was exhilaration. 

“We should get out of here,” Owen suggested, fixing Curt’s collar. It was starting to become a nervous tic of his to fix Curt’s clothes. 

“Probably.” Curt blinked rapidly to clear his head. “I invited Elise to dinner after the party.”

He shrugged. “You didn’t give away any location information, so we can just contact her tomorrow for brunch or something. She seems like the type who would love that.”

“Yea, I guess you’re right. Hey, are those guys you were talking about?”

“Hm? Oh. I must have lost them while I was getting you out of there.”

Huh. Weird.

* * *

Curt slammed the safe room door behind him. “Hi? Owen? What the fuck was that?”

Owen had his back to Curt as he started unloading weapons onto the table so he couldn’t see his face. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, come on! Every time I talk to someone you get all antsy about it!”

“No I don’t.”

“Yes you do!”

Owen whipped around to face him. “No I don’t!”  
“Why are you acting so fucking _weird_?” Curt demanded. “If I'm blowing my cover, just tell me. If I'm putting you in danger, just tell me!”

“You're not putting me in danger.”

“Well then why are you squirming around like you want to say something?! There was this, and the time with Jonathan and-” Months of information came crashing on Curt all at once. Changes in behavior, the way Owen treated him, even how fucking _cuddly_ he'd gotten during their off hours. “... You're jealous.”

Owen immediately began to sputter. “What, me? I'm not-not _jealous_ I'm just…”

“Come up with an excuse. I dare you to do it, and one that makes sense.”

“...Okay, so _maybe_ -”

“Oh, god.” Curt buried his face in his hands. His knees felt very weak all of the sudden. “It went on for that long and I didn't notice anything.” 

“No, Curt, this isn't _your_ fault!”

“But it is! I'm like this and I must have rubbed off on you somehow and this is all fake!” That night at the bar he'd so desperately tried to keep buried was in the back of his mind, lurking like some kind of demon. That must have been it. That must have been when he'd ruined Owen Carvour.

“You didn't ‘rub off’ on me!” Owen pinched the bridge of his nose. “You're being ridiculous!”

“I must have because there's no way you'd like me otherwise!” A deadly silence fell over the two. Curt laughed, choking on the tears. “This is a defect, Owen. Something that's wrong with me. And I know that you're not… Like that because you're amazing and I _know_ that thinking that makes me even worse but-”

He didn't finish his sentence. Owen threw his arms around him and the world came to a screeching halt. Curt could feel Owen shaking against him, felt one hand move up to hold the back of his head.

“You’re not a monster, okay?” He had never heard him sound like this before. “You’re normal, you’re-”

Owen’s voice cracked. Curt returned the embrace, holding Owen as close as he could in case he would disappear. He was falling again. 

“I love you,” Owen words held the same reverence as a prayer. “I promise, I’ve been this way long before you and I’ll be this way long after.”

“I don’t want there to be an after.”

“I can deal with that.”

Owen caught him again, and he could breathe.

**Author's Note:**

> My saf tumblr is @spiesbian.
> 
> Kudos are great but comments are even better.


End file.
